


To They, and him

by LittleSpoonSebastian



Category: SHINee
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mentioned Kim Jonghyun, Original work - Freeform, Other, Poetry, trigger warning, tw: december 18th
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpoonSebastian/pseuds/LittleSpoonSebastian
Summary: A collection of poems that I, a sad and over-attached literature student, have written about singer Kim Jonghyun, and related topics. Yes, they're sad. I know that. They're meant to be sad. But they are here for a reason other than to just make you cry at 3am when you miss him. They are here to awaken and enlighten you to several things surrounding him and what happened. Some of you are gonna have said shit about him that is seemingly harmless, but is completely wrong or selfish, and not realise it until you see these poems. Some poems are from my personal perspective, and some are my portrayals of Jonghyun's thoughts and point of view. This may not be correct and we will never know that, but art must come from something, and seeing as he is my muse, my works will display my mental image of him. If you don't like it, go ahead and be a keyboard warrior in the comments, but don't expect me to magically take these down because you want me to. They are my work and I have the right to share them regardless of feedback. Thank you.
Kudos: 2





	1. Breathing Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Out of the poems I have written, I completed this one last, on the 18th of December, 2020.
> 
> tw: suicide mention

How did he breathe these lies?  
You worked hard today,  
You are my prize,  
You did so well.  
How did he?

How could he break those promises?  
It's okay,  
I'll be with you always,  
No-one will blame you.  
How could he?

Why do I still listen?  
He did well,  
He worked hard,  
He stopped breathing.  
_He stopped breathing._

Three years,  
Three years today,  
He stopped breathing.

But he did well,  
Worked hard.

But he lied,  
Broke promises.

It's alright if I run out of breath?  
No-one will blame me?  
No-one blamed him,  
When he stopped breathing,  
When he ran out of breath.

He told one last lie,  
That no-one will blame me.  
No-one will blame me,  
When I run out of breath.  
They will blame him.


	2. To They, and him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this poem first, and it started my whole journey as an amateur poet, and my first experience in having Jonghyun as my muse. This poem, while it may not be my personal favourite, is one of the most important.

You know what this is about;  
again.  
I want it to stop,  
I want to stop searching for more,  
finding satisfaction in what people, normal people,  
find morbid;  
an angel goes back  
where They belong and the  
whole world seems to look down  
on the act;  
They belong there.

Their pain is immense;  
compared to _yours_ ,  
so how can you judge Them? If They  
didn't want to breathe anymore,  
They don't have to; They can hold Their  
breath and wait for the right moment;  
Forever.  
I hope They know I agree,  
because no-one told Them; They  
thought no-one agreed with Them;  
God.  
They were so angry.

How did we sit and watch  
Them crumble? But; how did we,  
"normal" people, say we tried to stop it,  
as a defense?  
Someone says they did something  
right, but it's not their own life;  
not in their hands. But I;  
I can't find the mourning that  
everyone else does.  
Because I know.  
I understand, how They felt?  
No,  
but I respect Their decision.

Others don't know anything,  
they grieve and wish for Them to return,  
have Them back for their greedy selves.  
Let Them go.  
Why does no-one let Them go? How;  
can someone say they tried to save Them?  
You didn't.  
You didn't give Them the help They needed,  
you didn't let Them take the wheel;  
saving Them isn't what you think it is,  
what you want it to be;

people save people  
to make themselves feel saved  
like they did something right

If They don't want to be saved,  
by _you_ ,  
don't blame Them, don't save Them.  
They save Themselves;  
it might be morbid to _you_ but  
it's bliss to Them; as far as we know,  
pain is only felt when living;  
so why is stopping the pain such a  
painful process itself?  
Let me answer that for you:  
it isn't.

It's painful for everyone else, if They  
want to stop it then so be it,  
not our choice. Their choice;  
not Their parents' or Their friends'  
or Their teachers' or Their government's  
nor Their children's or Their significant  
other's or his fans-  
_but you know what this is about;  
again;  
him,  
again._  
his life is his. if it was full of pain  
why stop him?

If people mourn they are normal;  
just don't defend your ground,  
over what you can't influence.  
So if you find yourself  
watching people mourn,  
for a sense of normality;  
I hope you know  
I'm doing it too.  
If you find yourself satisfied over  
others mourning because you can't;  
I hope you know  
I'm doing it too.

I'm not sad for him;  
if you think that's morbid,  
maybe I haven't  
made myself clear enough.  
I'm not sad for him; but for the ones  
who were around him,  
who respected his decision,  
who celebrated his legacy. But;  
we need to celebrate his actions too;  
his decision is not seen as well,  
but the highest form of failure;

but if you know,  
if you _really_ know what it's like,  
it takes a lot to get what you want;  
and he was firm,  
he got what he wanted, good for him;  
he did so well.  
He did so _fucking well;_  
so if you aren't sad for him,  
that's normal;  
if you are, normal too, but;  
if you avoid him like he's a plague,  
I won't thank you for hearing me.  
Change your mind;  
Listen.

This letter was me, Them, him;  
one outlet for so many of the same  
voice;  
his? beautiful,  
Theirs? meaningless,  
and mine? our final blow.

\- Us.


	3. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this poem with the most technical integrity within it. Pay close attention to the number of syllables and lines in each stanza.

He said he would take me  
To the moon, I didn't  
Hear a thing after that,

Wasted,

All my time was wasted,  
My pain endured for the  
Comfort of those with greed,

Just like him,

But now he's on the moon,  
He left, broke his promise,  
The one he never meant,

But he said he would  
Take me with him.


	4. Questions Concerning the Ticket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my final work. It is my personal favourite. My final blow. I explore the perspective of my muse in a metaphorical portrayal of his final decision.
> 
> tw: implied suicidal thoughts

A ticket.  
A one way ticket, at that.  
A little ripped, a cause of my haste to produce it from my pocket.  
But it's still a ticket.  
My ticket.  
Thousands have been printed to the exact same quality.  
But this one. This one is special.

"Next."

It's me next.  
Suddenly I don't want to use this ticket anymore.  
Maybe I'll keep it. As a souvenir of  
That one time I almost made it.  
And I was held back.  
By those people who will want to see it.  
Those people who go to your house,  
And stare at your mantle piece,  
And say,  
"Wow, what a collection you have!"

_"You really made it this far?"_  
Why, yes. I did.  
I kept the evidence. I didn't actually enjoy myself along the way.  
Because everyone knows,  
You need to give away your evidence.  
Evidence is for the bad times.  
Memory is for the good.

My collection of evidence is quite exquisite.  
Now, to add to it. My final blow.  
The one way ticket I couldn't give in to.  
The battered ticket with the date,

_December 18_

Scrawled on the front, as if  
You won't remember that day,  
I always get it out,  
Just to… look at. Just to say,  
"Wow, what a life I have!  
I spent my life collecting!  
And now I have the last ticket!"

Yes. The last ticket.  
That's why it's a one way ticket.  
You don't buy many one way tickets in your life.  
You always want to return.  
Return to your comfort.  
The others returned to theirs.  
Why is it harder for me to return?

"Next."

I hand the ticket in this time.  
Someone else will have to look after my collection.


	5. Fuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is unrelated to Jonghyun but more related to the topic involved generally.

That string of fate that seems  
so distant in your memory  
Suddenly starts to make sense  
When the shared soul starts to burn  
From the inside.

Is it you?  
When your soul withers and rots  
the string is unmoving, unaffected.  
It is the only thing we share,  
yet the only time you are truly alone

When the shared soul starts to burn  
From the inside  
You start to burn with it  
Because the dusk of kindling  
creates the dawn of flame

The string is your fuse  
Which end of the fuse are you?


End file.
